hey guys!
i've changed my blog to:
http://iknowtheressunshinebeyondthatrain.blogspot.com/
follow me on there!
thanks for all your support.
love,
AA
:)
Monday, February 21, 2011
Friday, December 31, 2010
Beautifully written, Taylor Swift
You, with your words like knives, and swords and weapons that you use against me,
You, have knocked me off my feet again, got me feeling like a nothing,
You, with your voice like nails on a chalkboard calling me out when I'm wounded,
You, picking on the weaker man.
Well you can take me down with just one single blow, But you don't
know what you don't know.
Someday, I'll be living in a big ol' city,
And all you're ever gonna be is mean.
Someday, I'll be big enough so that you can't hit me,
And all you're ever gonna be is mean.
Why you gotta be so mean?
You, with your switching sides and your wildfire lies and your humiliation,
You, have pointed out my flaws again, as if I don't already see them,
I walk with my head down trying to block you out 'cause I'll never impress you,
I just wanna feel okay again.
I'll bet you got pushed around, somebody made you cold,
But the cycle ends right now 'cause you can't lead me down that road.
But you don't know what you don't know.
Someday, I'll be living in a big ol' city,
And all you're ever gonna be is mean.
Someday, I'll be big enough so that you can't hit me,
And all you're ever gonna be is mean.
Why you gotta be so mean?
And I can see you years from now in a bar talking over a football game,
With that same big loud opinion but nobody's listening,
Washed up and ranting about the same old bitter things,
Drunk and rumbling on about how I can't sing,
But all you are is mean.
All you are is mean, and a liar, and pathetic, and alone in life and mean.
And mean, and mean, and mean.
But someday, I'll be living in a big ol' city,
And all you're ever gonna be is mean.
Yeah, yeah.
Someday, I'll be big enough so you can't hit me,
And all you're ever gonna be is mean.
Why you gotta be so mean?
Someday, I'll be living in a big ol' city,
And all you're ever gonna be is mean.
Someday, I'll be big enough so you can't hit me,
And all you're ever gonna be is mean.
Why you gotta be so mean?
You, have knocked me off my feet again, got me feeling like a nothing,
You, with your voice like nails on a chalkboard calling me out when I'm wounded,
You, picking on the weaker man.
Well you can take me down with just one single blow, But you don't
know what you don't know.
Someday, I'll be living in a big ol' city,
And all you're ever gonna be is mean.
Someday, I'll be big enough so that you can't hit me,
And all you're ever gonna be is mean.
Why you gotta be so mean?
You, with your switching sides and your wildfire lies and your humiliation,
You, have pointed out my flaws again, as if I don't already see them,
I walk with my head down trying to block you out 'cause I'll never impress you,
I just wanna feel okay again.
I'll bet you got pushed around, somebody made you cold,
But the cycle ends right now 'cause you can't lead me down that road.
But you don't know what you don't know.
Someday, I'll be living in a big ol' city,
And all you're ever gonna be is mean.
Someday, I'll be big enough so that you can't hit me,
And all you're ever gonna be is mean.
Why you gotta be so mean?
And I can see you years from now in a bar talking over a football game,
With that same big loud opinion but nobody's listening,
Washed up and ranting about the same old bitter things,
Drunk and rumbling on about how I can't sing,
But all you are is mean.
All you are is mean, and a liar, and pathetic, and alone in life and mean.
And mean, and mean, and mean.
But someday, I'll be living in a big ol' city,
And all you're ever gonna be is mean.
Yeah, yeah.
Someday, I'll be big enough so you can't hit me,
And all you're ever gonna be is mean.
Why you gotta be so mean?
Someday, I'll be living in a big ol' city,
And all you're ever gonna be is mean.
Someday, I'll be big enough so you can't hit me,
And all you're ever gonna be is mean.
Why you gotta be so mean?
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Sorry for the incessant short posts...
So. After an hour, I realized it's up to me to make myself feel better. So, right now I'm listening to Eminem, and waiting for Easy A to finish downloading on iTunes.
I'm still too scared to go downstairs and face my family and their friends, but no one's perfect, right?
And fyi: it's impossible to sleep while you're bawling. Better suck it up and face reality.
I'm still too scared to go downstairs and face my family and their friends, but no one's perfect, right?
And fyi: it's impossible to sleep while you're bawling. Better suck it up and face reality.
When I...
When I squint my eyes
And tilt my head
Ruff my hair
Curve my lips
and
Hint a smile
I look pretty.
I just hope someone can see this by just looking straight.
And tilt my head
Ruff my hair
Curve my lips
and
Hint a smile
I look pretty.
I just hope someone can see this by just looking straight.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
I want the 60s back...
2010 (almost 2011):
When a boy's "a player" it's "cool"; when the girl puts on an inundation of makeup, wears revealing clothing, and succumbs to his wishes, she's "sexy" or "a win". As I'm talking and watching my friends showing me their exes, their friends' exes, their crushes, etc. it's all on looks. By some damn mathematical equation, money + dark, mysterious look + muscle + experience = the complete passage. Am I the only one who doesn't abide by these rules?
Flashback to he 1960s:
It was a time where everything was pristine and truthful. Guys would ask a girl's dad if he could take her out - and on that date out, it would be a stroll in the park and plain chatter. He would open the door for her, laugh at her jokes at the correct time, ignore his incessant texts, and be completely committed. The worst that could happen would be a little hand holding or a swift kiss on the cheek. Nothing more.
I envy everyone that could to live in the impeccable and pure times of yesterday. Nowadays, dating is okay - you don't have to save anything for marriage. Lack of respect and dignity right there. And on top of that, no one's pure anymore? For me right now, I see high school relationships as fakes. There ways of just having fun to pass by the wretched years. I'm waiting for college (and if I have to wait longer, I'll wait longer) when the perfect guy - who shares the same beliefs, who has respect for me - comes along and holds those university doors open for me. I commit and I ask for commitment, but looking at where society - Facebook, phones, etc - is taking us, I'm kind of scared that that'll be too much to ask for.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Christmas Eve...
...I attended a wedding. It's been my third one in about twelve years and the first one I can actually remember...and be a part of. Throughout the week, we held dances (last nights as a bachlorette, yes?) where I realized the lack of traditional spirit I carried and the growing beauty of the bride. Every time I saw her, she glowed brighter and smiled more often. This was all leading to the big night. Today. Her wedding.
When she came down the elevator, entered the room, the sparkles on her dress blinded the audience. Her eyes were cast down - shy as she was - and her lids were topped with shades of green and a streak of impeccable black liner. Her eyelashes were neverending and her smile was omnipresent. Her hair was silky as coud be and she smelled like rose petals. The diamonds in her long earrings and her beautifully adorned necklace gleamed with expense and honor. Everyone's eyes were on her - the bride - as she entered he room, her sister and her friends carrying her dress to keep from slipping. I, however, looked right at the groom who was standing, now, waiting for his future wife to stand by him.
Looking into his eyes, it was impossibe to measure his happiness. He tried to refrain from smiling, but his eyes decieved him. He held out his hand - their first touch - and brought the wife to their seats on the ostentatious sofa. While the camera man and every other girl began snapping pictures, the bride ensued her orders and looked down while the groom, one second smiling for the pictures, the other second, peeking glances at the bride. He stooped down and gently whispered into her ears, "You look beautiful." She giggled, keeping her eyes down but failing to keep a straight face. She kept tapping her long, red finger nails (a sign of nerves perhaps?), so the groom smoothly slid his hand into hers, stroking. The pictures continued to be taken. The people continued to whisper.
After what seemed like hours, the groom did something - unprecedented - that he had been dying to do. He slightly turned to the side, bent down, his musk blending with her rose petal sense, and gently kissed her. On the cheek. It was their first kiss. Flawless.
When she came down the elevator, entered the room, the sparkles on her dress blinded the audience. Her eyes were cast down - shy as she was - and her lids were topped with shades of green and a streak of impeccable black liner. Her eyelashes were neverending and her smile was omnipresent. Her hair was silky as coud be and she smelled like rose petals. The diamonds in her long earrings and her beautifully adorned necklace gleamed with expense and honor. Everyone's eyes were on her - the bride - as she entered he room, her sister and her friends carrying her dress to keep from slipping. I, however, looked right at the groom who was standing, now, waiting for his future wife to stand by him.
Looking into his eyes, it was impossibe to measure his happiness. He tried to refrain from smiling, but his eyes decieved him. He held out his hand - their first touch - and brought the wife to their seats on the ostentatious sofa. While the camera man and every other girl began snapping pictures, the bride ensued her orders and looked down while the groom, one second smiling for the pictures, the other second, peeking glances at the bride. He stooped down and gently whispered into her ears, "You look beautiful." She giggled, keeping her eyes down but failing to keep a straight face. She kept tapping her long, red finger nails (a sign of nerves perhaps?), so the groom smoothly slid his hand into hers, stroking. The pictures continued to be taken. The people continued to whisper.
After what seemed like hours, the groom did something - unprecedented - that he had been dying to do. He slightly turned to the side, bent down, his musk blending with her rose petal sense, and gently kissed her. On the cheek. It was their first kiss. Flawless.
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